


Denouement

by Anonymous



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ableist Language, Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amputation, Armitage Hux is Not Nice, Armitage Hux is So Done, BAMF Unamo, Bad rock climbing practice, Blood and Injury, Brutality, Crash Landing, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Don't Read This, Drowning, Gang Rape, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Loss of Limbs, M/M, Medical Procedures, Mental Health Issues, Minor Canonical Character(s), Mutual nonconsent, Noncon is NOT between Kylo and Hux, Not A Fix-It, POV Multiple, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prosthetic Limbs, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Spoilers, Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Thoughts, Tags May Change, Torture, Unreliable Narrator, Violence, Whump, bamf mitaka
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:01:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21877810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Hux is punished for his transgressions. Contains spoilers for TROS.Literally just a dead dove with some plot stapled onto it eventually. This is not the fixit you are looking for. Move along.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Datoo, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Original Male Character(s), Armitage Hux/Pryde, Armitage Hux/Rodinon
Comments: 55
Kudos: 263
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic contains graphic depictions of rape. Please don't read it if you think it might cause you harm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary at the end for those who wish to avoid specific types of content.

By the time Hux wakes up, he's been stripped down to his vest and trousers. The armour he wore beneath his tunic is long gone, as is his blaster and his monomolecular blade. The cold press of the cuffs on his wrists provides a confusing contrast to the feel of carpet on his cheek.

But of course. This is his office, or rather, the office that _used_ to be his. Before Kylo Fucking Ren had given it over to Allegiant General Cuntface.

None of these details are particularly reassuring. His only saving grace is the fact he's still alive to see it. That, and the fact that Pryde hasn't got around to redecorating yet. Should he by some miracle regain his position, he will at least not have to worry about acquiring another twenty square metres of ice-blue gaberwool twill.

Hux has been keeping his body still from the moment he noticed the cuffs, like a prey animal feigning death to avoid the real thing, but a rustle of movement out of his sight makes him tense up, and it's enough to betray him.

"Get up, Armitage. I know you're awake," Pryde clips. From the sound of it, he's alone, and instantly Hux finds himself strategizing. He has the advantage of youth, albeit no longer backed up by a very sharp knife. If he can disarm Pryde he can probably overpower him, and all he needs to do then is dispatch any guards outside, locate an escape vessel, somehow avoid all the people he's inevitably pissed off by leaking details of their operations to the Resistance...

"Get. Up," The Allegiant General hisses again. Hux shifts, rising unsteadily as he realizes the chances of his plan succeeding are vanishingly slim. He'll have to talk his way out of this situation instead, although the odds aren't much better.

Still. He's alive. And as long as he's alive, he has a chance. Hux turns and settles into parade rest, back rigid, his expression as deferential as he thinks he can get away with, his left leg throbbing in protest.

"I realize how this must look, sir, but if you'd-"

Pryde draws the cane back and strikes him with it.

Hux nearly hits the floor again. Pain flourishes in his cheek, the taste of blood on his lips, and his heart begins to thud wildly against the ache in his chest. "Wait," he chokes, but a strike to his midsection cuts off what he intended to say, and he leans over, winded and shaky and breathing hard.

"You can save your breath, Armitage," Pryde says. "The evidence against you speaks for itself."

Hux straightens up, wincing, calculating furiously. "Of course it does," he snaps, affecting nonchalance and hoping it works. "I was feeding them false information to-"

The cane hits his cheek with a solid thwack. Hux can't help it - he finds himself falling onto one knee, clutching the wounded flesh. The blaster-burn on his thigh pulses in sympathy.

"Don't insult my intelligence," Pryde snaps, as he looms down over the younger General. "You're not here to make excuses. You're here to act as an example."

Hux stares up into the hard eyes of the old Imperial, desperately attempting to put a tether on his panic. "Allegiant General, Sir, you're making a grave error-"

The handle of Pryde's cane sweeps Hux's ankle, and Armitage finds himself falling hard onto his bound hands. Pryde moves behind him with slow, ponderous steps.

Abruptly, the waistband of his jodhpurs is grabbed and yanked down, breaking the front fastening in the process. Hux freezes in disbelief. Is he going to be flogged? He can't imagine a worse indignity - but then his underwear is being shoved to his knees, and Pryde's hands are on him, and suddenly, horrifyingly, he can.

Hux has never been penetrated before. He's done other things, on occasion, when he was safe or foolish enough to allow himself that vulnerability with another person; he doesn't think of himself as a virgin. And it's almost a comfort because it means Pryde cannot take that from him.

These thoughts are born of panic, and Armitage knows it. He's trying to find the advantage in the situation, however slight - he's trying to find something to cling to as his body jerks instinctively away from the older man and his hands dig into that fucking carpet as if he can somehow claw himself out of the situation with the tips of his fingernails.

But Pryde's knee is pressing down onto the back of his calf, pinning him in place, and the weight of his body is on him, and he's grasping the back of Hux's neck with one hand as the other fumbles with his belt, and Hux has no choice but to fight his way out after all. He twists, drawing the unpinned knee under him and swinging his cuffed wrists upwards towards Pryde's face.

Pryde swears as the metal hits his cheek, and lets go. Hux wrenches his leg from under Pryde's and kicks out at his knee, teeth clenched furiously. For one glorious moment the Allegiant General is taken off-guard and Hux thinks he might actually have a chance here - until the older man grabs his injured leg and bears down, pinning Hux to the floor with his own weight and forcing him onto his front again.

It's too painful. He's blinded with it, and though he is still struggling against Pryde with the ferocity of a trapped animal and screaming with the agony and the fury of it all, his efforts are not enough. Pryde wedges his knee atop Hux's wounded thigh and presses his forearm to the back of Hux's neck, and Hux curses and flails and it's all so fucking unfair, this can't be happening, this _can't_ be how it all ends.

He hears Pryde spit into his own hand. He could weep. He isn't going to, but he could. Hux will go out fighting or not at all.

"Trying to get it up, old man? How long has it been?" he grits out, trying to ignore the crawling chill of fear over his skin. "Or is this the only way you can-"

The rest of his taunt disappears into a scream. If he'd thought the pressure on his leg was bad, it was nothing in comparison to the way Pryde's cock is tearing into him now. "Bastard!" Hux spits. "I'll kill you for this. I'll skin you alive, you filth, I'll-"

Pryde says nothing, only grabs Hux by the hair, wrenching his head back painfully as he slams inside him. Hux's eyes begin to water and he hates himself for it.

"Degenerate scum!" he forces out, voice thick with tears. "My father never respected you. Perhaps he - ah! Fuck! Perhaps he knew what you were."

"You're one to talk," Pryde rumbles out. His tone is heavy with breath in a way that makes Hux feel even more nauseated. "You never even earned your post. You _inherited_ it. It's high time-" another thrust, another blooming of pain- "you got what you _deserved_."

Hux wants to tell Pryde that _nobody_ deserves his pathetic cock, but he can barely even breathe for the pain, now, and the reality of what's happening is finally sinking in. Pryde's filthy prick is inside him, contaminating him, _damaging_ him, and there's nothing he can do. It makes him want to vomit. (It makes him want to cry.)

Pryde speeds up and groans atop him, and the thought that this man is about to ejaculate in him makes Hux actually gag. His cheeks are humiliatingly wet. "Fuck you," he croaks out, as Pryde comes. The older man doesn't reply, just slams Hux's face against the floor. Hux feels the cartilage in his nose crack.

"Stay down," the Allegiant General orders, finally. "Or next time it'll be a blaster rifle." Hux probably couldn't get up if he wanted to, but the phrase 'next time' causes him to freeze in fear. He hadn't been thinking past the immediate moment, and the fear that Pryde may be about to kill him is quickly supplanted by a deeper, more chilling one: that Pryde intends to keep him alive.

_You're here to act as an example._

He hears Pryde move away and light up a cigarra. Something slick is eking out of him, semen or blood or both. The smell makes him retch. Each moment of this humiliation seems to move with glacial speed, and eventually he risks a slow shift onto his side so his back is facing away from the Allegiant General. He draws up his knees, hisses with pain, spits red onto the carpet.

"Do that again and you're licking up your own mess," Pryde murmurs. He's straightening up the front of his uniform.

Hux doesn't speak. Pryde flicks a button on his desk.

"We're done," he says, to someone on the other end of the comm line. "Escort him to the hangar."

So. Public execution, with Pryde's filth still clinging to him. Hux sets his jaw against the pain and the fear and hurriedly tries to pull up his trousers as the doors slide open behind him. If the two stormtroopers notice what's been done to him, they don't comment.

"On your feet," one orders, grabbing his arm. He swallows down blood and acid and obeys. Everything is becoming distant now, almost pleasantly so, but Hux resists. Every moment he's still alive is another chance.

He will not go out without a fight.

They lead him out, Hux clinging to the waistband of his jodhpurs to try and hide his shame, cheeks burning, gaze fixed on the corridor ahead.

He refuses to look at the officers whose shocked eyes follow him as he passes, and though agony shoots through him at every step, he keeps his spine rigid. He will not break. He _will not break_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary and content notes:
> 
> Hux survives the shot to the chest, and wakes up in Pryde's office with his wrists cuffed. While the General protests his innocence, Pryde strikes him with the cane a few times before attempting to sexually assault him. Hux fights back, managing to hit Pryde across the face, but is eventually overpowered, and Hux's pain and emotional reaction to the assault are described in detail.
> 
> After Pryde finishes, he slams Hux's face against the floor, possibly breaking his nose. He briefly threatens to penetrate Hux with a blaster rifle. Hux spits blood onto the carpet, and Pryde says he will make Hux "lick up his mess" if he does it again.
> 
> With the strong implication that Hux is to be made an example of, Pryde summons two guards to escort Hux to the hangar; Hux is led out, holding up his torn jodhpurs by the waistband.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary at the end for those who wish to avoid specific types of content.

_"Ren?"_

_Hux's voice is soft in the dark. He can hear shifting from the bed beside him, but Ren doesn't answer until he's on his feet again and dressing himself._

_"What?"_

_"You don't have to leave."_

_Kylo stills before he starts pulling on his boots. "I don't know what you think this is. But you're wrong."_

_"I didn't mean it like that. I simply meant you could stay the night if it was easier for you."_

_"Good," Kylo tells him. His footsteps withdraw anyway, and Hux is left alone._

* * *

He tries not to think of Kylo Ren. Or anything. All Hux's strength is poured into remaining stoic as he's led in front of the lines of stormtroopers and officers waiting for him in the hangar. Admiral Griss is there in front of them, waiting, and his nose crinkles with a mixture of distaste and amusement as the two stormtroopers force Hux to his knees.

"General Hux, for your treasonous actions, you are hereby stripped of all rank and title," he announces. "Your example will act as a warning to all those who would defy the First Order."

Hux tilts his chin up, trying to maintain some dignity. He catches Mitaka's eye. The young man's expression is neutral, but his brow creases ever so slightly. Beside him, Unamo's shoulders are trembling.

"The First Order stands united," continues Griss. "It is therefore only fitting that your punishment should be meted out by those fine people you have betrayed."

Hux glances up at the Admiral briefly, in shock. Griss doesn't appear to notice.

"You are sentenced to remain here, restrained and under guard, to allow your fellow officers and subordinates to respond to your treachery as they see fit, until such time as the Allegiant General and the Supreme Leader deem appropriate for your execution. Until then, he is not to be killed," Griss adds, raising his voice to the crowd.

Armitage widens his eyes. His breaths grow fast and shallow, and he feels for a moment as if he might vomit. This can't be happening. He's going to be beaten, tortured - he's going to be raped again, and while he knows that the longer he stays alive, the greater his chance of getting out of this, he suddenly yearns for the firing squad he'd expected. At least then it would be dignified. At least then it would be _quick_.

He hears Griss dismiss the assembly, hears the booted feet of the other stormtroopers file away, and when the two at either side of him yank him to his feet once more he wonders if he's going to faint. Somehow, he stays conscious. It's a small mercy, if at all.

They tether him to one of the bulkheads at the far end by his wrists, a durasteel cord linking the cuffs to a D-ring on the wall. Hux glances up at the balconies above, sees the faces of people he once served alongside. Griss sets a small unit of troopers to guard him and then turns on his heel. A few other officers remain, but nobody seems to want to approach him yet.

Hux swallows. "You've been lied to," he tells them stiffly. "I remain loyal to the Order. Pryde is using me to cover his own transgressions." Desperation is creeping into his voice, but he can't help it. "You _must_ believe me. I've done nothing."

Someone strides toward him. It's Peavey. Hux feels his stomach drop.

"Hello, Armitage. I think I speak for all of us here," he mocks, and punches him in the face.

Hux reels. He tries not to let go of his waistband, even as Peavey strikes him again, and again, until Hux is on his knees and spitting blood. Then he dusts off his hands, and aims one solid kick to Hux's middle for good measure.

"That's more than you deserve," he comments. "Come on, men, don't be shy. General Parnadee, perhaps you'd like to do the honours."

The General's dark eyes rest on Hux for only a moment before she replies. "Thank you, Captain, but I'd rather not get these gloves dirty."

"May I, sir?" comes another voice. It's Rodinon. He's pulling his own gloves off, slow and deliberate. _This is for abandoning us on Starkiller_ , Hux reads in his expression, and he closes his eyes.

"By all means, Lieutenant," Peavey tells him.

"Perhaps you'd do me the favour of holding him down, after you're done," someone else suggests - Colonel Datoo. "I have a feeling he's not going to like what I have planned."

Hux goes cold all over as Rodinon advances.

The young Lieutenant has brought him to the floor and broken at least two of Hux's ribs against the toe of his boot before he's satisfied. Knowing worse is coming after him, Hux can no longer keep himself from trembling.

"Listen to me. You're making a _mistake_ ," he chokes. Rodinon only sneers and grabs the back of Hux's tank top, jerking him over onto his front. He presses a knee between his shoulder blades and yanks Hux's trousers down. There's a quiet gasp from somewhere else.

"Looks like you're getting someone's sloppy seconds, Colonel," Rodinon remarks. Datoo makes a noise of disgust.

"In which case I think I'll give it a miss." The Colonel turns to one of the attending stormtroopers. "I'll be back later when he's been cleaned up."

He strides away. Hux is still trembling beneath Rodinon's hold, tears threatening at the corners of his eyes. He can see Captain Peavey staring on emotionlessly, General Parnadee frowning beside him. The Lieutenant cocks his head, thinking.

"ST-2281," he calls suddenly.

"Sir?" replies one of the troopers.

Rodinon gestures at the slim, quivering body beneath him.

"A shame to waste the opportunity, wouldn't you agree?" he asks.

"I'm on duty, sir."

Peavey cuts in.

"It's an order, 2281."

The stormtrooper goes still, his blaster lowering. A couple of his fellow troopers turn their helmets slightly.

"Yes, sir," 2281 replies finally. "Permission to remove my armour, sir?"

"Granted," smirks Peavey. Parnadee's jaw is tense. Hux knows he should be paying closer attention to people's expressions, should be planning and strategizing and biding his time until an opportunity comes, but all he can think right now is _please, please, no, not again, please_.

The trooper's laying his armour aside piece by piece now, and when he lifts his helmet, Hux can see that his face is a little grey. 2281 is dark-skinned, with slender eyes and close-cropped hair; he's about a decade younger than Hux, and there is a pained innocence in his eyes that suggests he's never been intimate with anyone before.

Peavey watches with a spiteful satisfaction as the stormtrooper kneels down and unzips his thin bodysuit. Hux's body tenses. His chest hurts where it's pressed against the ground, where the reverberations of the blaster shot bruised him through the armour. The trooper moves behind him; Rodinon shifts to push against Hux's shoulders, keeping him pinned. He feels hands on his waist.

Hux cannot give in now, not with so many eyes on him. He forces himself to look up, to meet Peavey's gaze with a defiant glare, and when the stormtrooper tries to pull Hux's hips into his lap, he snarls and resists. Rodinon punches him in the face. Hux's chin scrapes the ground, and he feels the sting of whiplash in his neck.

The stormtrooper's hands tremble slightly on his skin. Hux grits his teeth and, finally, allows himself to be moved. He tries desperately to relax, slowing his breathing, and it's a cruelly long time before the trooper penetrates him. It feels a little easier than it did with Pryde, as if the young man has worked himself to hardness with a spit-slick hand, but it still hurts, and a low groan slips from his throat at the humiliation of it all.

Parnadee lets out a long breath. Her eyes are distant, and she seems almost weary. Hux fixes his gaze on her face until the trooper's nervous thrusts force another cry out of him and he squeezes his eyelids shut.

Rodinon lets up after a while, perhaps believing that Hux has no more fight in him, or perhaps just bored, and the stormtrooper leans over him, hooking an arm under his chest for purchase. The hangar is almost silent now, aside from the distant hum of machinery and the sound of the young man's breaths. Hux pulls his hands beneath him on reflex, eyes closed, and when he feels something touch his arm, he startles.

The stormtrooper's lips are close to his ear. Shakily, his hand encircles Hux's wrist.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm so sorry."

Hux _breaks_. Ugly, keening cries escape him, and he hides his face against the ground, unable to control the shivering of his shoulders, the heavy flow of tears over his cheeks. "Please. No more. Please," he begs. "Please don't do this."

"That's _enough_."

Parnadee's voice cuts in. Hux still can't stop himself from weeping, even when the trooper quickly withdraws from him and stands, and he buries his face into the crook of his elbow to try and muffle the noise.

"Stormtroopers do not exist for your personal entertainment, Captain," the woman clips. "If you truly wish to indulge in such a distasteful display, I suggest you either find a _volunteer_ , or do it yourself. 2281, report to the psytechs after your shift."

Her footfalls fade off. Nobody says anything for a few moments as Hux tries desperately to get his sobs under control. Then, in answer to some unseen gesture, Peavey mutters, "As you will, Lieutenant."

A pair of boots step into his vision. Hux shivers and closes his eyes and tries to pretend he doesn't exist.

By the time the third or fourth officer has had their way - sexually or otherwise - he is on his back again. He's given in to the urge to dissociate, now, and whatever is being done to his body feels like it's happening to someone else. One of the stormtroopers standing near him twitches every so often, and his head hangs a fraction lower than those of the others.

Hux has a distant feeling that he should know why this is, but he can't remember any more, and he no longer has the strength to try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary and content notes:
> 
> The chapter begins with a brief flashback to Ren leaving Hux's bed. It is strongly implied that their relationship was purely physical, and the two still dislike each other.
> 
> Back in the present, Hux is led in front of an assembly of officers and stormtroopers. Admiral Griss announces that Hux has been stripped of his rank, and that since his offence was against the entire Order, he will be restrained in the hangar bay for the crew to mete out punishment as they wish, before being executed at a later date.
> 
> Once he's restrained, he is physically assaulted by Captain Peavey and Lieutenant Rodinon while several other officers watch, including General Parnadee, who refuses to participate on the grounds of not dirtying her gloves. Rodinon then holds Hux down at Colonel Datoo's request, but Datoo decides not to sexually assault Hux when he sees the damage already done by Pryde, and states that he will return later when Hux has been cleaned up.
> 
> Peavey then orders a stormtrooper to sexually assault Hux. The stormtrooper obeys reluctantly, and whispers an apology to Hux, who then begins to cry. General Parnadee orders the stormtrooper to stop and to report to psytech after his shift, before reprimanding Peavey.
> 
> Three or four officers assault Hux afterwards, although this is not described in detail. Hux begins to dissociate.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow, this work is getting way more attention than I thought it would! Thank you so much for all the comments and kudos.
> 
> At some point in the near future I'll be adding detailed content warnings to each chapter. In the meanwhile, a little challenge: if you can guess who I am, either by contacting me privately or commenting something subtle, I'll de-anonymise this fic. (Please take care not to upset people by linking this fic without warnings or mentioning author names in public.) Let the games begin.
> 
> Thank you all for reading <3
> 
> Summary at the end for those who wish to avoid specific types of content.

_"You're thinking about her again, aren't you?"_

_There's more accusation in Hux's voice than he would like, but he tells himself he's not jealous. Kylo pauses as he pulls his shirt on and throws back a glare._

_"So what if I am?" he says._

_Hux pulls the bedclothes over himself. It feels awkward to be naked in front of Ren, now they're done. They don't have that kind of relationship. "The girl is nothing, Ren. She'll die on D'Qar with the rest of them."_

_"She's not on D'Qar."_

_"How do you know?"_

_"I just do," snaps Kylo. "This isn't any of your concern, General."_

_"It is if she's a threat to us," Hux retorts, sitting up. "How does the Supreme Leader feel about all this?"_

_"What the Supreme Leader and I discuss is none of your concern." He bends down to pull on his boots. "I don't answer to you."_

_"Yes, you've made that quite clear, Ren. You don't answer to me, you don't talk to me, you come here and you get off and you leave."_

_Kylo turns round. "If you don't want me here, then say it. Nobody's forcing you."_

_Hux doesn't answer._

_"That's what I thought," Ren murmurs, and walks away._

* * *

Hux names Star Destroyer classes in his head. Imperial-I, Imperial-II, Interdictor, Onager, qaz, Resurgent, Secutor. Someone wedges their fingers between his teeth and fucks his throat. He vomits over himself and passes out and when he wakes up he's being cleaned up in medbay.

They give him new clothes and bacta patches and let him use the fresher and he almost, _almost_ manages to steal a scalpel but they catch him and then he doesn't recall what happens next but suddenly he's back in the hangar and the soles of his feet are burning.

He thinks of schematics, mentally filling in each detail as a young Petty Officer kicks him in the crotch for the amusement of her friends. There's no day-night cycle in here and they shock him when he passes out so he can't remember how long it's been, but at some point there's a clean hand gripping his chin and wiping blood from his face. General Parnadee is crouched at his level, her face stern.

"Try to have some dignity, soldier," she tells him. "It'll be over soon."

Datoo comes back, pushes him down. Hux bites his hand when it's shoved over his face and they - he can't remember but they do something to him and now it's hard to stand without limping, and there's blood slick on the floor underneath him.

The knees of his trousers are soaked through when Commander Trach comes with a bottle of water. His face is grave. Hux remembers how carefully the man used to handle the tension between he and Pryde, how the struggle to remain neutral sometimes showed in a flicker of his face. "Please don't make me force you," he murmurs, under the watchful eyes of the stormtroopers. Hux grabs his wrist.

"The Supreme Leader?" he croaks.

"He hasn't returned yet," Trach tells him. "Nobody seems to know where he is." Hux feels his throat close up. His vision blurs, wet.

"Kill me," he begs. "Please. Use poison. Nobody has to know."

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm so sorry."

He doesn't know why that phrase makes him cry and he's stopped trying to understand. His mouth feels sour and metallic, his skin sticky and unclean, and there are hands on his body even when he's alone.

People stop paying attention to him after a while. Fighters scramble in the hangar. A few pilots slow on their way past him and then carry on. There are noises of battle in the background. Through the force-field at the hangar opening, the stars are obscured by clouds and lightning and the shadows of other Star Destroyers and he wonders if he might be hallucinating now.

"Sir."

There are hands on his shoulders. Hux moves to lie down on his front but someone's stopping him. Mitaka. Hux can't make sense of any of this. He spots a syringe in the corner of his eye.

"Poison?" he manages through blood-chapped lips.

"No. A painkiller," the Lieutenant whispers. Unamo is hurriedly wiping his arm with something. Hux doesn't understand why her cheeks are damp. His gaze drifts beyond her as the needle breaks his skin, and he sees ST-2281, and other troopers, gathered around him, blocking his view. They seem to be watching their surroundings for something.

"Sir, please. I know it hurts a lot but you need to stand up," Mitaka hisses. He's tugging on Hux's arm. Is he going to be executed now? He feels as if he should fight this but he can't. 2281 takes his opposite arm and Hux hears a horrific noise emanating from his throat when he starts to put weight on his feet. Someone puts a hand over his mouth. Someone squeezes his shoulder, pulls him close.

There's warmth spreading through him now, blossoming outwards from the needle-prick in his bicep, and standing becomes easier. Mitaka draws back again. There are stormtroopers at either side of him, their gauntleted hands hard against his flesh.

"Move. _Move!_ " Unamo orders, and his escorts take off, near-enough dragging Hux with them. The painkiller makes him feel pleasantly buoyant although there's an itching over his cheeks and where two of his toes used to be, and he notes with detached interest that the deck occasionally judders beneath him. Someone's shouting at them to stop. A blaster bolt grazes 2281's armour. There's a ship in front of them, a rusted old thing with twin thrust nozzles on the back, and they usher Hux up the ramp as another bolt singes the hull plating.

Someone lays their jacket down on a bench behind the cockpit and eases him down onto it. Unamo and Mitaka take the controls while 2281 kneels beside Hux and removes his helmet.

"We're getting you out of here," he says. Hux furrows his brow.

"Why?" is all he can think of to say.

2281 unstraps one of his gauntlets and reaches for Hux's wrist, squeezing lightly. "Because you didn't deserve this."

"No," mutters Hux dreamily. "I did."

The ship judders. Hux wonders why they haven't been fired on yet. In the back of his mind he thinks it won't be long. And he knows he should stay conscious for this, because if he falls asleep he might never wake up, but his eyelids are drooping and the painkiller is making him feel warm and soft, and he's so very, very tired.

So he lets go, and sleeps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary and content notes:
> 
> The chapter begins with another flashback to Hux and Ren's relationship. They discuss Rey; Hux accuses Ren of thinking about her, although there is no suggestion that Kylo is attracted to Rey.
> 
> Back in the present, Hux distracts himself with naming Star Destroyer classes while he is orally assaulted. Hux vomits and passes out.
> 
> He wakes up in medbay. He is caught attempting to steal a scalpel. He does not remember what happens next, but it is implied that something has been done to the soles of his feet.
> 
> The assaults in the hangar continue. The passing of time becomes vague and Hux is shocked to prevent him passing out or sleeping. At some point, Hux is spoken to by General Parnadee, who wipes his face and tells him to keep his dignity until he's executed.
> 
> Colonel Datoo returns and assaults him. Hux bites his hand and it is implied that his feet have been damaged further in retaliation; there is mention of blood.
> 
> Commander Trach feeds Hux a bottle of water and tells Hux that the Supreme Leader's whereabouts are unknown. Hux asks Trach to kill him, but Trach refuses.
> 
> After a while, the assaults tail off, and fighters begin to scramble in the hangar. Unamo and Mitaka approach, and, with the stormtrooper from the previous chapter acting as lookout, inject him with a painkiller before helping him to escape. Troopers begin to fire at the group as they approach the Bestoon Legacy (Ochi's ship), and at one point it is confirmed that Hux has lost at least one toe.
> 
> While the ship begins to launch, Hux speaks with the stormtrooper who was forced to assault him. The stormtrooper tells Hux that they're rescuing him because "he didn't deserve all this." Hux disagrees and states that he blames himself before the painkillers lull him into sleep.


	4. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With thanks to DN, DM and AW for helping me clarify some details, and a very happy whatever to those who are celebrating today!
> 
> (Chapter edited because I realized I'd messed up a bit. Yes, the change in tense is deliberate!)
> 
> Summary at the end for those who wish to avoid specific types of content.

Chief Petty Officer Nastia Unamo had always been lucky.

And she knew it. Ever since the First Order recruiters swept her up from poverty, gave her a warm bed and a smart Cadet's uniform and more rations than she'd seen in all her nine years of life, she'd known. It wasn't skill or strength that separated her from the two younger brothers who'd died the winter before: it was luck, and Nas fully intended to take advantage of it.

She was a competent officer in her own right, of course. Becoming part of General Hux's bridge crew on the Finalizer wasn't just a case of being in the right place at the right time. But Unamo had learnt to count her blessings. It was pure chance that prevented her from being assigned down to Starkiller, while poor Mitaka barely made it off the planet before it exploded. And it was pure chance, too, that in amongst all the chaos of Hux's alleged betrayal, nobody thought to cast their eyes Unamo's way.

Hux's assassin, Tritt Opan, had not been seen since Pryde shot the General on the bridge. Had Mitaka not taken the opportunity to transfer to Admiral Griss' staff when he did, he might well have met the same fate.

But Unamo had always been lucky. And as Griss proclaimed Hux's treachery to the assembled lines of stormtroopers and officers in the hangar, she thanked whatever auspicious star she was born under that she was not kneeling in his place.

She didn't believe he'd betray the Order. Clearly _somebody_ had, but it wasn't Hux. And there was a sick feeling in her stomach when she recalled how the General would remember the names of everyone on his bridge staff, how he'd praise her efficiency so sincerely that it made her flush with pride. Now his composure was visibly trembling as the Admiral passed sentence, and there was blood drying beneath his nose, and she couldn't help but notice the way he held up his jodhpurs with his cuffed hands. The thought of Pryde flogging him like a disobedient cadet made her tremble with anger. It took all Unamo's restraint not to show it in her face.

The troopers marched off as they were dismissed, but a number of the officers hung back; Nas caught a few looks of spiteful anticipation and she knew with nauseating certainty that they intended to take Griss up on his offer. Mitaka put a hand on her arm, frowning deeply.

"Let's go, Nas. There's nothing we can do."

"It wouldn't feel right," she breathed.

"You think he'd want us to see this?" There was a catch in Dopheld's voice as he spoke, quiet and furious. "If you have any respect for him left, you'll get out of here and leave him some dignity. _Please_ , Nas."

Dopheld wouldn't order her, and that alone stung deeply; he was asking her, _pleading_ with her as a friend, rather than as an officer of higher rank.

But she couldn't bring herself to move, even when they started - even when it _happened,_ and the bile rose in her throat, and Mitaka's hand squeezed hers so tightly she felt the bones of her fingers might break.

It is not until she noticed the tears gathering in 2281's eyes that she realized why she was still there.

* * *

"ST-2281!"

She caught the stormtrooper in the corridor after his shift ended, minutes away from arrival at Exegol. He froze mid-march, then turned and stood to attention. His movements were slow. Exhausted.

"Yes, ma'am?"

Mitaka jogged up behind her. 2281's confusion showed in the subtle tilt of his helmet. But when she told him she'd been tasked with escorting him to the psytech division, and then started leading him in _completely the wrong direction_ , he seemed to understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary and content notes:
> 
> This chapter is written from the point of view of Lieutenant Nastia "Nas" Unamo.
> 
> Unamo sees herself as lucky, and has a positive view of her life in the Order. She does not believe that Hux is a traitor. It is implied that another of Hux's allies, Tritt Opan, has fled or been assassinated due to his close connection with Hux.
> 
> She and Lieutenant Mitaka watch Hux as Admiral Griss passes sentence. Hux is visibly fearful, despite his efforts. Unamo sees that Hux is holding up his trousers and assumes he's been flogged.
> 
> Mitaka encourages Unamo to leave, but Unamo's instincts tell her to stay, perhaps out of respect for Hux. Hux's torture is described vaguely through Unamo's eyes, and the sexual assault is alluded to but not detailed.
> 
> It is revealed that the stormtrooper who was ordered to assault Hux, ST-2281, is crying during the ordeal. Unamo hears Parnadee order 2281 to report to the psytechs after his shift. Later on, she catches 2281 before he can do so, and leads him away. It is implied that 2281 is aware Unamo is diverting him.


	5. Interlude II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may be a little disappointing for some. Remember what I said about this story being little more than a dead dove with some plot stapled to it? Well, the plot's now taken on a life of its own. Sorry.
> 
> I promise we'll get back to Hux's POV soon!
> 
>  **Also.** I stand by my previous challenge, because I like to live dangerously. Guess who I am and I'll deanonymise. We who are about to be cancelled by antis salute you!
> 
> Summary at the end for those who wish to avoid specific types of content.

The _Bestoon Legacy_ was a piece of junk, but now that hundreds of Resistance allies had shown up, Unamo didn't fancy her chances in a First Order shuttle. "Hold tight!" she yelled from the pilot's chair, and punched the closest thing she could see to an ignition sequencer, hoping her luck hadn't run out.

The docking clamps screamed with the strain as the _Legacy's_ thrusters fired up.

"Dopheld! We're still locked in!"

"I'm working on it!" Mitaka stumbled back into the cockpit, sans jacket, and tapped a few more furious commands into his datapad. There was an almighty clang as the _Steadfast's_ systems finally responded to Mitaka's code, and within moments the confiscated ship was away, careering across the hangar toward the forcefield.

Mitaka swore and grabbed onto the console as Unamo clipped the wing of a TIE-fighter on the way out, but Nas kept flying, teeth gritted, knuckles white. Out of the corner of her eye, the Lieutenant was fumbling with a disk drawer, replacing the Captain's badge inside with one that would get them out of the hangar - _come on, come on!_ \- and Unamo could hear blaster bolts ricocheting off the hull as she veered round, trying to buy them a few more seconds before they reached the transparent barrier.

She couldn't circle forever - one of those stormtroopers was bound to hit something vital soon - but neither could she risk ramming the forcefield head-on. At best, the electrical charge would short something in the engine and they'd be incinerated instantly. At worst, they'd just crash and survive, and Unamo wasn't keen on sticking around to see how they'd punish _her_.

"We're through! Go!" Mitaka shouted. Nastia didn't need to be told twice. For one awful moment the forcefield flickered in front of the cockpit windows, and then it was gone, leaving only the clouds and the shadowy Last Order fleet and the flashes of lightning beyond.

"The TIEs won't be far behind us," she told Mitaka. "Hail the Resistance fleet; tell them we're on their side but we need cover. I don't think this ship can take a lot of damage."

Technically, it wasn't her place to give Dopheld orders, but she had a distinct feeling that the military hierarchy didn't apply to defectors. Mitaka opened a channel.

"Resistance Fleet, this is the... the _Bostoon Descendant_ or something, I'm sorry, we stole this ship and I can't remember what it's called - we have four First Order defectors on board including one injured, we need assistance, please hold your fire-"

Three TIEs were showing on the radar now, and gaining speed behind them. Unamo's shoulders tensed; a shot grazed their hull.

Mitaka was shouting into the transmitter now. "-vessels, hold your fire, we are _on your side_ -"

Something struck the ship. Suddenly the _Legacy_ was in free-fall and smoke was filling the cockpit; Mitaka was no longer in his seat and Unamo had to cling to the console to stay upright. "We've lost thrusters!" she yelled. "Brace for impact!"

"Where the f...fuck is going on?" Hux yelled from somewhere behind them. There was still no sign of Mitaka, and the dark, rolling seas below were approaching at breakneck speed. Nas couldn't afford to assume that either of the troopers knew how to repair a propulsion engine, but neither did she have any idea of what to do next. It occurred briefly that these could be the last moments of her life, and a small voice inside her head said, _fuck it_.

She slammed her fist into the control panel at random, and hoped.

* * *

Unamo came to as Mitaka was dragging her onto the shore. She dug her heels into the black shale for purchase, but couldn't manage more than a few steps on her own before falling to her hands and knees, coughing. Dopheld slumped down beside her, breathing hard and soaked through; in the distance, the shattered hull of the Bestoon Legacy was floating away, trailing its parachute.

Ahead of her, the female trooper - 2209 - was bent over Hux, performing mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. He pitched to the side and vomited water just as Unamo finally managed to get to her feet, but her relief was short-lived.

"Where's 2281?" she croaked. 2209 just shrugged helplessly, panting hard. She was stripped down to the thin fabric underlayer all stormtroopers wore, with only her greaves remaining, and Nas wondered if she'd had to rip off the rest of her armour to be able to swim. Maybe 2281 hadn't been so successful, and had been dragged down by the weight of his duraplast suit. The thought made her shiver.

Hux groaned and retched a few more times before curling up on his side and laying an arm over his face.

Unamo turned her attention to the battle raging above them. It was hard to make sense of what she was seeing, and for a moment she wondered if she was hallucinating. Streams of lightning were gripping at the Resistance ships, dragging them out of the sky as the Final Order fleet continued its slow ascent. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled.

"Ma'am?"

She glanced back at 2209. The woman was now supporting Hux's head as Mitaka moved his finger back and forth in front of the General's eyes, possibly checking him for a concussion. Hux seemed dazed, and kept pushing ineffectually at the Lieutenant's arm, frowning as if it was some annoyance he couldn't comprehend. Unamo moved closer to them, feeling as if an entire ocean was weighing her down.

2209 was a tall, muscular woman with pale skin and a burn scar on one cheek, and in any other circumstance Nas would have been slightly intimidated, but the expression on her face was that of a frightened child. "What do we do now?" she asked.

"Who gave you permission to remove your helmet?" Hux murmured, a little accusingly.

"I don't think he's concussed. But I think someone might have given him a sedative," explained Mitaka. "It's interacted with the painkillers. He... doesn't seem to know where he is."

"Stop touching me." Hux tried to wrench his head out of the stormtrooper's lap. "I'm done. I'm done with all this _shit._ Just shoot me or fuck off because I'm fucking _done_."

More ships were falling out of the sky now, trailing smoke. Unamo felt her heart dropping in tandem. Her gaze followed the trail of lightning to where the bolts branched out from the huge, monolithic structure some 500 metres from their position.

Unamo's hand moved to her belt. Had her blaster survived the immersion? Something told her it had. Before she was even aware of it, she felt herself speaking.

"I'm going in."

Mitaka and 2209 didn't seem convinced. As Nastia began to walk, slow but determined, they exchanged a worried glance.

"Nas, you nearly drowned," Mitaka told her. Hux rolled onto his side and coughed, deep and racking like sobs.

"We _all_ nearly drowned. We need to get into cover," she said. "Are you coming with me, or do I have to carry him myself?"

"We're coming," 2209 replied with finality.

In the end, Mitaka and the trooper had to carry Hux between them, despite his repeated insistence that he could walk (he could not walk). Unamo forged ahead, her calves and feet aching from the uneven terrain. Behind her, she heard Hux tell Mitaka firmly to go and fuck himself, and strangely, something in his tone of voice gave Unamo hope.

He hadn't given up yet. So neither would she.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary and content notes:
> 
> Unamo pilots the Bestoon Legacy out of the hangar, narrowly escaping a collision with the forcefield. She worries briefly about what might be done to her if she's caught.
> 
> The Legacy approaches the Resistance Fleet. Mitaka hails them, asking for assistance and cover, but the ship is struck by something and begins to fall toward the sea. Unamo slams a random button on the control panel and hopes.
> 
> When Unamo next regains consciousness, she's being dragged out of the sea on Exegol by Mitaka. It is revealed that Unamo managed to activate an emergency parachute, slowing their descent and allowing them to survive the crash.
> 
> There is no sign of 2281, but the other stormtrooper who accompanied them, 2209, is further up on the shore, giving Hux mouth-to-mouth recusitation. Hux returns to consciousness and vomits up water. Since 2209 is now missing most of her armour, Unamo speculates internally about 2281's fate, wondering whether his own armour weighed him down and caused him to drown.
> 
> Hux appears disoriented and annoyed, and Mitaka checks him for concussion before speculating that someone might have slipped him a sedative, and that now the painkillers are interacting with it.
> 
> Unamo witnesses more Resistance ships being struck by lightning and falling from the sky, and notes that the lightning seems to emanate from a giant stone structure nearby. Her instincts tell her to head for the structure, and she convinces the others to follow her.
> 
> Hux cannot walk, but he swears at Mitaka as he's being carried, and Unamo draws hope from his determined attitude.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today I learnt that ketamine can be used as a battlefield analgesic.
> 
> Content notes below, for those who wish to screen for specific content.

Armitage Hux is so very fucking done.

He has no idea where he is, only that he's wet and in pain and his boots are gone. There's a horrific stretching agony across his chest, a burning in his legs and in his lungs and _inside him,_ and it's making him want to kill someone. Preferably one of the people who did this to him, but he's not fussy.

The fact that the torture seems to have stopped for now is an improvement, certainly, but there's no guarantee this state of affairs will last. Mitaka's here, and Unamo, and some trooper - or two troopers whose numbers keep jumbling together in his head, it's hard to tell. Hux might have trusted their loyalty once, but there were others he trusted too ( _Datoo's hand over his mouth, blood on his lips_ ) and look how well _that_ turned out.

He has no idea how long it's been since the - since they hurt him last, and what's happened in the interim feels vague and dreamy. There was a crash, he's sure of that, and he remembers the rush of water around him, remembers a pair of strong arms which he fought against on reflex, and then...

Nothing. Flashes. Clouds, or smoke. The scrape of salt in his throat.

Hux can't make heads nor tails of it. And Mitaka keeps insisting on carrying him, which is bullshit because Hux doesn't want another man's hands on him for as long as he lives, and he tells him so, several times.

"Just hurry the fuck up and execute me," he grits out.

"Nobody's going to execute you, sir," Mitaka replies tiredly. There are flashing lights above them, but Hux can't seem to focus. He wonders if he's still in the hangar. No - that's not right. There was a shuttle. A crash. Water, arms, suffocating.

Hux notes them down in his head like passcodes, trying to burn them into his memory. The pain makes it difficult to think, but he _must_ stay aware of his situation. Any moment now, someone could decide to hurt him again and he needs to be ready.

"Let me down," he commands. His mouth feels ungainly, slow. He's slurring like a drunkard, and he hates it. He's bruised, and cold, and filthy, and his boots are missing and his thoughts keep breaking off and Ren is gone, and he fucking _hates_ being like this, helpless and vulnerable in the arms of his Lieutenant.

"I'm sorry, sir. You can't walk like this."

Hux scowls. His throat constricts and it feels like a sob. He knows that the filth of what they did to him is somehow staining his skin, seeping through his uniform, and when Mitaka lets go of him he'll _see_ and he'll lose whatever little respect he might have had for his disgraced General.

Someone lays him down. He should be grateful for his space, but there are hands on him still, even when he's alone, and the ground is hard and painful against his back.

"Where are we?" he snaps, though his voice lacks its usual power. He moves his head, trying to see his surroundings, but it's dark here, and his vision is blurry. Unamo moves into his view, frowning.

"Sir, I need you to try and stay conscious," she tells him, sounding hurried.

"For what?"

Maybe execution won't be so bad. He's sick and tired of all these people getting in his face, these people who have been witness to his humiliation, who for all he knows could be planning something even worse.

"You've been injured. We need you to stay conscious until we can find help. Dopheld, can I trust you to stay with him?" Unamo says.

"Where are you going?" Mitaka's voice. Someone is trying to lift Hux's head, shove something underneath it. Hux mutters at them to piss off. Now that he's been told to stay awake, sleep is beginning to sound very tempting indeed.

"I'll tell you later," Unamo is saying. "Just - trust me. I have to go."

Footfalls. Mitaka calling, "Nas! _Nas_!" A hand strokes his forehead. Hux tries to jerk away from it, but apparently swift movements aren't doable right now. The irritation is clear in his voice.

"Where are we? I asked you a question, Lieutenant."

"We're on Exegol, sir," Mitaka tells him finally, and sits down next to him. Hux strains his eyes to focus. Mitaka is hugging himself as if he's cold. His tunic is damp and creased, his hat nowhere to be seen.

Hux considers reprimanding him for breaching uniform regulations, but decides against it.

"Exegol," he repeats. "The... The Final Order fleet. We crashed here."

"That's right." Mitaka moves to examine Hux's feet, frowning in concern.

"You saved me," Hux murmurs, thinking. "You - you took a shuttle and you saved me. But then we crashed. On Exegol."

"We gave you some strong painkillers. We think someone else might have slipped you a sedative, or a muscle relaxant," the Lieutenant explains. "Tell me if you can feel this."

(He remembers a bottle of water being pushed to his lips, the odd, chalky taste of it.)

"Commander Trach," he mutters, and then, "Ow! Fuck - _fuck off_!"

"Sorry." Mitaka whips his hand away from Hux's foot. "Sir, I know this is going to be difficult but I need you to let me examine you-"

"No. Absolutely not. You lay another hand on me and I'll have you _fucking_ killed, you snivelling ingrate." Hux feels like screaming. The muscles of his jaw are beginning to ache from the effort of resisting.

"It might be better if I do it, sir," comes a quiet, hoarse voice from somewhere above him. A woman, by the sounds of it. Hux squeezes his eyes shut, although his body doesn't recoil quite so hard from the suggestion of _her_ touching him, and he tries not to think about why that is.

"That's a good point." Mitaka sounds subdued. "I'm not sure there's much we can do for him without equipment. I'm going to investigate the TIE we saw parked a few hundred yards back, see if there's a medikit or a working transmitter. Can you keep him talking and conscious?"

The woman murmurs her agreement and Mitaka gets up. Hux concentrates on his breathing, in and out, in and out, chest moving as little as possible to prevent another spike of pain. As Mitaka's footsteps withdraw he feels a large, meaty hand work its way into his.

"General?"

Hux wants to let go, but the contact grounds him, and he squeezes back instead. "Don't talk," he tells her. Above them, the sky is rumbling.

"I'm sorry. I need to make sure you don't fall asleep."

"I don't take orders from _troopers_."

Her hand loosens a little.

"I know you're not going to remember this, sir, but I always admired you," she tells him, a little brokenly. "You were... strong. Professional."

"Then you were deluded," he hisses out. "I'm a failure."

"That's the drugs talking. They gave me the same thing once, too. I'd taken a lump of shrapnel to the chest. Almost broke straight through my armour." He hears the crunch of her changing position beside him. "I cursed out every battlefield medic I saw and hallucinated carrion birds eating my fingers. You seem to be holding up far better than I was."

The past is telescoping away from him, becoming dark and inscrutable. He no longer remembers why he is here. "Where's Ren?"

The woman goes quiet for a few moments. He can't recall her name any more.

"He's not here, sir," she tells him. "He isn't going to-"

"Well fucking _find him_ , Phasma, I think someone's planning to execute me." He can see the outlines of birds, dark and vast-winged, on the stone ceiling above them.

"Right. Of course, sir," she replies slowly. "I'll get on that straight away."

"Tell Ren I need him here." He swallows, tasting metal and salt. "Tell him to wake me up when he gets here."

"I really think you should wait up for him, sir."

"Don't tell me what to do," he croaks. "I'm dying, aren't I? That's why you're holding my hand and I feel like I've had a planet dropped on me."

"You're not going to die, sir."

"Oh, don't talk shit. If Ren - if Ren comes," he manages, and his thoughts are slipping from between his fingers like feathers now, "tell him I love him."

"... right. Yes. I'll tell him."

"It's not true. But it'll piss him off enough that he might kill Pryde for me."

"Of course, sir."

"I don't love him. I don't love anyone. I don't _need_ anyone."

"Yes, sir. I believe you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is written from Hux's POV. There is no direct description of sexual assault in this chapter, but Hux's previous assaults and the physical aftereffects are strongly alluded to throughout, with a brief flashback at the end of the third paragraph.
> 
> Due in part to the painkiller/dissociative he was given by Unamo, Hux is paranoid, in pain and confused, and repeatedly snaps at the people helping him. He attempts to piece together the events of the last few hours, but it is clear that he is having memory issues. He speculates that his rescuers may be planning to hurt or execute him.
> 
> It is suggested that Commander Trach slipped Hux a sedative while he was being tortured.
> 
> Unamo leaves, promising an explanation later. Mitaka attempts to examine Hux, but Hux threatens to have Mitaka killed if he tries. The decision is made to leave Hux with the female trooper, who talks to him about an old battle injury she experienced, and the hallucinations she experienced as a result of the drugs, which involved birds and finger mutilation.
> 
> Hux's grip on reality begins to slip further. He experiences mild visual disturbances and believes he's talking to Phasma. He asks the female trooper to tell Ren that he loves him, then denies it's true, and claims it's a ruse to make Ren angry enough to kill Pryde. The female trooper humours him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your lovely comments and encouragement. They bring light into my day.
> 
> Nobody has yet succeeded at getting me to de-anonymize, but the challenge is still there!
> 
> Content notes at the end for those who wish to survey for specific content.

Hux doesn't remember much after that. And later, when he's floating in a bacta tank aboard a ship he doesn't recognize, he remembers nothing at all except flashes. Water, choking, arms, pain. The wings of birds in the darkness. A voice that might have been his mother's.

His eyes open slowly, and the fluid against them feels sticky and disturbing. He takes a deep, panicked breath through the mask, and his arms begin to thrash uncontrollably, banging against the transparisteel. Outside the tube, a series of blurs move toward him. Suddenly the tank is draining and he's being helped out onto a gurney, gasping for air.

The doctor is an elderly Czerialan who glares at him as she unhooks the tubes, before tossing a hospital gown onto his chest. A human nurse, male and heavy-built, moves to help Hux put it on. He slaps out at him before he knows he's doing it. The Czerialan calls for a sedative.

Mitaka's voice, hurried and distant. "No, no - please - he's - he doesn't like men touching him right now."

"Piss off. I'm not a child," Hux slurs, but he's grateful when a female nurse comes to help instead. She's brusque, but gentle, and helps him lie on his side when he's done.

His body feels strangely numb, and there are pale brown bruises dotting his skin. He examines his hands, still wet with bacta, before frowning down at his legs. Something's wrong. His ankles itch. Beneath them-

"What the _fuck_ happened to my feet?" he screams, as he attempts to buck up into a sitting position, but the nurse puts a soothing hand on his shoulder. Mitaka hurries toward him. He's still in his uniform; it's dirty and rumpled, and he looks like he hasn't slept much.

"I'm sorry, sir. The doctors did what they could, but there was a lot of damage, and-"

"You let them mutilate me." Hux swallows. His chest aches vaguely. "I'm crippled."

"We'll get you fitted with prosthetics. I promise," Mitaka tells him. "Just - try to stay calm."

Hux lets his head fall against the gurney, eyes squeezing shut. There is silence for a few moments.

"The anaesthetic should be wearing off already, so I'm going to give you a painkiller," the Czerialan clips. "The dose will last for a few hours, and by then you should be somebody else's problem."

"Where am I?" He no longer has the strength to protest as the doctor rolls up his sleeve and injects him with something.

"This is the Corellian Cruise Liner _Sati_ ," the doctor replies. "We're in orbit around Ajan Kloss."

Hux feels a strange, suffocating warmth spreading through him - the painkiller. It's different from the last one. "Exegol," he manages.

"The Final Order fleet was defeated," Mitaka says quietly. "We're safe."

The Czerialan shoots a raised eyebrow at Mitaka. "We're going to hand you over to the Resistance in a few hours, so I suggest you rest up while you can," she says. "You and the Lieutenant will be confined here for the rest of your stay - not that you're in much of a position to move anyway."

Hux wants to snap at her, but the drugs make him feel like his whole body is covered in a thick, warm blanket. Even his eyelids feel heavy.

"They're going to execute me," he murmurs. "Pryde should have just killed me and been done with it."

He closes his eyes. Someone offers their hand, but Hux only presses his palms against his face and gives a weak, exhausted sob.

* * *

Time drifts on.

The doctor comes back and talks to him about detached ribs and soft tissue injury and lung infections and internal bleeding. Hux nods along, taking very little of it in. Whatever they've given him is good stuff, because he doesn't really care about anything now.

Mitaka tries to talk to him a few times, but Hux is too drowsy to sustain a conversation, and after a while, he, too, falls silent.

He closes his eyes, opens them again.

Ren is there.

"Where's your scar?" is the first thing Hux says to him. Kylo seems different now - he's wearing some shabby black shirt with a hole in it, and his eyes are... softer, somehow. It occurs to Hux that Kylo might pity him, and the thought is mildly irritating.

"You're awake," Kylo murmurs, turning to face him. His face creases with pain and for a moment Hux wonders if Kylo might cry.

"Oh kriff," he croaks. "Don't. Don't start blubbering."

Kylo rests a hand lightly on top of his. Even in his drug-induced haze, Hux can tell that his mannerisms have changed. Before, he might have clenched his jaw and made that trembling, lips-pressed together expression which Hux always found at once infuriating and endearing. Now, Ren simply hangs his head and lets out a long breath.

"I'm so sorry," he tells Hux, voice cracking. "For everything."

"I don't give a shit that you're sorry," Hux replies, although he does, a bit. "Where _were_ you?"

"I... had to do something. It's complicated."

Hux scoffs, and his gaze comes to rest on their hands; his own, bunched loosely together in front of him, and Ren's, resting atop them. He remembers how they once felt on his body. Something coils in his stomach. Kylo draws his hand away.

"You know what they did," Hux says, his throat closing up. "You must know."

"Yeah," Kylo replies breathily. His eyes are wet. "Yeah. I'm so sorry."

"I did it because of _you_. Because you _fucking_ abandoned me. The moment you rose to power you had your- your kriffing _force-powers_ around my neck. And that was it." Hux wipes his wrist against his own cheek, smearing tears. "And _now_ you feel guilty. Not because you threw me against a console and ruined my career but because you can't stand knowing it was _your_ actions that got me tortured and _raped_."

It's not true. Hux still holds himself responsible for getting caught, and for all that came after. But it was Ren who drove him to this betrayal, Ren who fucked off on some pointless quest and left him to the wolves. Hux wants to hate him so very badly. And yet he can't. And that might just be the worst thing of all.

"Hux." Kylo's voice is quiet and choked. "If I could go back and change things-"

"Well you can't." Hux sniffs. His eyes are blurry. He wipes them again, detesting himself for his weakness. "You left. It happened. Don't - don't fucking leave me again. Please."

Kylo says nothing. Hux closes his eyes. He feels the brush of a hand across his forehead, smoothing his hair, gentle as a breeze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hux awakes in a bacta tank aboard a Corellian cruise liner. His memories of the last few hours are scant and unclear.
> 
> When he opens his eyes, the feel of the bacta on them disturbs him and he starts struggling. He is soon pulled out and given a hospital gown. A male nurse moves to help him, but Hux reacts with hostility. Mitaka, nearby, explains that Hux is not comfortable with men touching him, and a female nurse helps Hux instead.
> 
> Hux realizes belatedly that both his feet have been amputated. He reacts with horror. Mitaka tells him he'll be fitted with prosthetics in the future. Hux refers to himself using an ableist slur.
> 
> The doctor is brusque and unsympathetic. She informs them that they are in orbit around Ajan Kloss and will be handed over to the Resistance soon. Hux is informed that the Last Order has been defeated, and given a painkiller with opioid-like effects. He tells Mitaka that the Resistance are going to execute him and that Pryde should have just killed him outright.
> 
> Hux finds himself dissociating. The doctor describes his injuries, but Hux only takes in vague details. There is no graphic description of injury in this chapter.
> 
> After an unspecified amount of time, Hux opens his eyes to see Ben Solo (whom he still refers to mentally as "Kylo"). Ben seems upset and remorseful. Hux refers to Ben's violence toward him at the end of TLJ, accuses Ben of abandoning him, and blames Ben for what happened to him, but he's lying - he still holds himself responsible for being caught. He asks Ben not to leave him again. Ben says nothing. Hux closes his eyes, and feels a hand stroking his hair.


	8. Interlude III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, people, let's raise the stakes. Guess who I am and you get a fic of at least 1k written just for you - topic and pairing subject to my personal limits (of which I have only a few). Am I looking for an excuse to deanonymize while absolving myself of blame for the consequences, I hear you ask? Well... probably, yeah.
> 
> Either way, thank you for all your comments, and also for enabling me, if you choose to. Your feedback gives me life. 
> 
> Another chapter from Unamo's POV. More Hux coming soon after this. Content warning summary at the end, as usual.

"Get back here, girl!"

Unamo had been lucky. Kal and his gang must have overlooked the power cell earlier when they were stripping this downed speeder for parts. It was a little battered, but still intact - perhaps even functional - and now it was _hers_ , even if Kal might want to claim otherwise.

It wasn't uncommon to find ships or vehicles dumped in the wastelands around Surevat spaceport. Sometimes people came here to disappear intentionally, and sometimes they disappeared whether they'd intended to or not; either way, it meant a regular supply of scrapped engine components to break up Nastia's usual income of reclaimed rags and rusty ammunition casings. Those alone weren't nearly enough to support her, now she no longer had her brothers to help, and the local pimps and thieves were starting to take an interest in her struggle. A couple had even tried to lure her in with food, but Nas was careful not to take the bait. She was nine years old now. She could take care of herself.

The morning sun beat down on the back of her neck as she clambered over the rocks, and the the coarse brambles nestled between them snagged her leggings every so often, but Nastia kept going. The power cell in her backpack could be traded for a week's worth of food at least. Behind her, the distant pursuing footfalls tailed her; further behind her still, the distant him of speeders and faint music from the decaying cluster of buildings that served as Surevat's poorest district.

She was a better climber than any of Kal's boys. If she could just scale the cliff, she knew they'd give up rather than make the long trek round to the top. It was a tricky ascent, but Unamo had done it before, and her luck hadn't run out so far.

"I'm warning you, Nas, you little shit!" someone called. Nastia hefted herself up onto a ledge, glanced back to see how much ground she'd gained. The three skinny teenagers chasing her were catching up fast, so she hastily scrambled for a higher foothold, and then another, and another, hands stinging from the rough grip of the stone.

Someone hurled a rock. It smacked against the nearby cliff face, causing a shower of pebbles, and for a moment she nearly stumbled - but then Nas caught her footing again and heaved herself up, and the spit of a curse from far below told her she'd already won.

Filled with the rush of victory and the promise of a full belly tonight, Unamo soldiered on toward the cliff's bright peak, the dry grasses crunching beneath her hands and knees when she finally reached the top. She sat up and shook out her aching arms -

And stopped. Somebody was already there. For one heart-dropping moment Unamo thought Kal had sent someone ahead, but no - this was a woman, and her clothes were cleaner and smarter than Nas had ever seen in her life. She wore a dark tunic and trousers, and a pair of shiny black boots, and her face was kind. A shuttle had been parked some distance behind her. There were figures milling about in what looked like similar garb.

"Well, hello there." The woman smiled and crouched down, as if Unamo were a nervous Tooka cat. "You must be a very good climber." And there was something in her eyes, something bright and promising, that gave Nastia hope.

The little girl scrambled to her feet and dusted off. 

"I am," she said proudly. "My name's Nastia. What's yours?"

* * *

Nas didn't know exactly _where_ she was headed, only that she was determined to get there as soon as possible.

Which wasn't a problem at first. The structure - Unamo had mentally labelled it a _chunky black monolith_ for lack of a better term - didn't have a lot in the way of doors. Or walls. Or anything else, really. Whoever the architect had been, they were clearly very into the whole ominous minimalism thing.

Occasionally she'd spot something slumped in the distance, something that could have been a pile of rocks or a robed figure, but when her interest lighted on these distant shapes she would feel a small kick in her chest.

_No. Don't get distracted._

_From what?_ she found herself thinking, but there was no answer.

Nas kept going.

The rough shale under her feet had been replaced by stone now, and as Unamo neared the centre of the structure, she realized there was something else on the ground ahead of her, something - a light? No - a hole, as wide as a command shuttle, and a subtle glow from within. She slowed her steps as she approached.

Vast chains extended into the blackness below. Beyond them, the shadowy form of a massive edifice, or perhaps more than one, edged with that same dim light. Statues. They were statues, and they must have been huge, and the ground a kilometre below her at least, and -

_Look at the chains._

Unamo looked, her stomach sinking.

 _Oh no_ , she thought. _Seriously? That's where I'm going?_

 _Yep_ , the voice told her.

Unamo glanced back, just once. Then she sighed.

"Oh, fuck you," she muttered.

She shucked her gloves, dried her hands in the grit, and, after some consideration, decided to keep her boots. The soles were worryingly smooth, but the slight heel might be enough to provide some grip, and for not the first time, Unamo found herself cursing whoever designed these uniforms with a slow and horrible death.

Then, with a deep and final clearing breath, she sat on the ledge, said a quiet prayer to nobody, and began to lower herself down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is written from Unamo's point of view and begins with a flashback. 
> 
> It is made clear that Unamo spent the first nine years of her life in poverty, scavenging for tech that she could trade for food. Her life has become harder since her brothers died. Brief reference is made to child prostitution, although it is clear that Nastia is trying to avoid this eventuality.
> 
> Pursued by a rival gang of older boys due to a valuable piece of tech she has retrieved, Nastia scales a cliff to avoid them and, at the top, sees a First Order officer and a parked shuttle. The officer remarks that Unamo must be a good climber. Nas agrees and introduces herself.
> 
> Back in the present (?), Nas approaches the entrance to the vault on Exegol, led by the same unknown instinct as previous. She contemplates the steep drop before preparing to climb down.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [edit] **Content notes have finally been added to the end! Apologies for the long wait.**
> 
> No content notes at the end yet - my apologies. There's nothing graphic, but there are a few snippets that might distress. In particular, **this chapter contains discussion of suicide and suicidal ideation in the POV character.** I'll have a better summary up as soon as possible - hopefully by the end of the week.
> 
> This chapter comes with the deepest gratitude to everyone who's read, commented, kudosed and/or bookmarked so far. Thank you for keeping me motivated!
> 
> With additional thanks to J, who is objectively the best nurse in the UK if not the entire world, and who gave me advice on nursing-related stuff and didn't ask questions.

_The throne room is still scattered with severed drapes and flame when Kylo turns from him._

_"Let's finish this."_

"Finish _this?" Hux can't keep the shocked disbelief out of his voice. Clearly all those nights spent entwined with him has made Ren forget his place. "Who do you think you're talking to? You presume to command_ my _army!"_

 _Kylo stops walking. Hux feels his shoulders hunch inwards with rage, like a protesting child, and he hates himself for it, but he keeps going. "Our Supreme Leader is_ dead _! We have no ruler-"_

 _Invisible hands clutch his throat. Hux brings his own up involuntarily. The strength seems to drain from his legs and it's not just the lack of oxygen._ So this is how it ends _, whispers a small voice in Hux's head. Not with his lover's gradual absence from the room, but on his knees before Ren's new throne._

_"The Supreme Leader is dead," Kylo snarls. His eyes are cold, unrelenting. Hux doesn't have a choice._

_"Long live the Supreme Leader," he chokes out._

_And they're done._

* * *

When Hux wakes again, he's somewhere different, but too hazy to really worry about it. Which is a good thing, because otherwise he'd be panicking at the thought that someone had been moving him - _touching_ him - while he was unconscious, that he'd been stretchered past gawping crowds of people who hated him, that every member of the Resistance still on Ajan Kloss had seen how far he'd fallen.

More horrifying still is the thought that so many people now know his shame. The only thing that moves faster than hyperspeed in this galaxy is rumour, and the story of a First Order General being raped and tortured in front of his troops would spread among its detractors like bacteria on a petri dish.

Hux lifts his hands, inspecting them, as if trying to reassure himself the truth of his humiliation is not also written on his skin, hidden in the whorls of his fingertips or in the bruises around each sore knuckle. There's a cannula in the back of one that isn't connected to anything - probably for medication or fluids. He feels like pulling it out.

"General? Do you know where you are?"

It's a woman's voice. Older, by the sound of her. "No," mutters Hux. "I mean. Yes. I'm on Ajan Kloss. But I'm not a General any more."

"Right." She doesn't seem to know how to answer that. "I'm sorry. Um, I'm Commander D'Acy."

He looks over at her belatedly. She's somewhere in her forties, with an angular face and soft blonde hair, and she's wearing a Resistance uniform, which isn't too surprising. Hux tries to make out her rank from the uniform markings. There's someone else sitting next to her, a dark-skinned young woman wearing civilian clothing. Hux ignores her for the time being; the older one is the only one talking, and the only one he now recognizes.

"Larma," Hux replies vaguely. "Larma D'Acy. Born on Warlenetta. One wife, no children. I've read your dossier." How he can remember that and not be able to count the number of fucking stripes on her badge is beyond him. D'Acy seems surprised too.

"Right. I guess there was no need for the introduction," she says. "General - Mr Hux -"

"Just Hux is fine."

"Hux. You've been given some medication to deal with the pain, so everything might feel a bit strange." She chews her thinning bottom lip, eyebrows creasing. Her next words sound rehearsed. "It's my duty to inform you that you've been granted temporary asylum with us until you're deemed mentally capable of making your own decisions. I need to assure you, first of all, that New Republic law prohibits the use of intelligence gathered from individuals who are under the influence of mind-altering drugs, so-"

"There isn't a New Republic any more," Hux slurs, matter-of-fact and a little proud. "I blew it up."

She takes a quiet breath. "Okay. If I could finish, Hux - I can't legally discuss any of your past activities or anything pertaining to military intelligence until you've been cleared by a physician. And that includes the - the Hosnian system. Do you understand?"

"I'm not an idiot."

"Of course." D'Acy closes her eyes for a moment. She seems to be steeling herself, or restraining something. She probably hates him. _Both_ of them probably hate him. Hux doesn't blame them; so does he. "What I _can_ tell you is that we'll continue to provide you with medical care for as long as you need it, and you won't be subject to torture or mistreatment in our custody."

 _Custody_. "So I'm a prisoner, then," Hux says.

"Yes," Larma tells him.

He looks hazily from the end of his bed to the door. The room is small, its metal rafters suggesting a makeshift or prefabricated structure. The only window is a skylight, and there's an armed guard standing opposite him, another woman. Hux glances back to where his feet should be.

"Well," he says, airily, "At least you don't have to worry about me running away."

D'Acy raises her delicate eyebrows as the younger woman gives Hux a small and sympathetic smile. When the commander speaks again, her voice is softer.

"Dr Kalonia will be fitting you with some prosthetics later. No synthskin yet, but it should be enough to allow you to stand again. In the meantime, we have a nurse on standby - you can press that button on your bedside table to summon her - and we've been cleared to give you food and drink if you need it. Do you have any questions? Is there anything you need?"

"Yes, I have questions." Hux levels his gaze at her, trying to look dignified, for all the good it does him. "Any chance we could skip all this and go straight to the bit where I'm executed?"

The younger woman discreetly makes a note on her datapad. D'Acy's shoulders slump a little.

"Look, this isn't something I can discuss with you in detail, but it might reassure you to know that there's no guarantee of that. We won't know anything until you're competent enough to stand trial."

"I'm not going through a kriffing trial," Hux slurs. "The whole galaxy probably knows what's happened by now, I'm not going to stand up in front of them and pretend to have any dignity left. There's no point. Just take me out back and shoot me in the head. Job done."

He's tempted to add that if he has the chance, he'll do it himself, but thankfully the painkillers haven't addled his mind enough to make him think it's a remotely good idea. They'd probably put him on 24-hour suicide watch, or something. Maybe strap him to the bed. Hux doesn't want that. He doesn't even want to think about that. Beside him, Larma casts a somewhat helpless glance at her companion.

"Hux, this is Lanie Dalis," she says, at length. "She's a crisis counsellor. She's here to help you process the events of the past few days. I'm going to leave her alone with you now to give you some privacy. If there's anything else you need at all, you have the call button, and there'll be nurses checking in on you-"

"You might as well save Ms Dalis' time." There's a deep fatigue throughout Hux's body now, a heavy tiredness which makes it difficult to even lift his head. "I don't need to talk about my karking feelings. I just need to not be alive."

Finally, Lanie speaks. She leans forward, putting a hand on one of the metal struts of the bed below the mattress. "It's very normal to feel suicidal after something like this. I can tell you now that the feeling is not going to last. These first few days are going to be incredibly difficult, but-"

"Oh, just fuck off, the both of you!" Hux spits. His ears are ringing, his heartbeat ramping in volume and speed, and a terrifying dizziness is coalescing in his skull. He feels hands on his throat, on his arms, his hips. "I'm _done_! I surrender! I don't want - don't want -"

Whiteness. Nothing.

When he comes to, he feels like he's floating. Lanie and D'Acy are gone, thank fuck, but there's someone else sitting next to him now, a nurse, and beside her -

"2281?" Hux murmurs.

The stormtrooper's slender eyes are tired and sad, and his hair is wet, for some reason. He doesn't speak. The nurse looks up.

"Hux?" she prompts gently. "How are you feeling?"

"Well I'm not dead," he says. "So, on the whole, rather shit."

2281 gives him a deep frown. The nurse twitches her hand toward him, as if wanting to touch his arm, comfort him, but she restrains herself.

"You had a flashback," she tells him. "We had to give you lorazepam. You might feel a bit strange for a while. Do you remember where you are?"

"Ajan Kloss," he recites. "In custody. Same old. I suppose you're here to make sure I don't kill myself."

"Pretty much," she says. Her bluntness surprises him. Hux is almost tempted to like her. "How's the pain?"

"Bearable," Hux mutters. "Why do I feel like my toes are itching?"

"Ah, that would be phantom limb pain." The woman stands up and lifts the corner of the bedsheets to check on where his feet used to be.

(For one odd moment, Hux wonders if she's checking to see whether they've grown back. Clearly the lorazepam is doing its job. His head feels like it's been stuffed with cotton wool.)

"It's quite common with amputees," the nurse continues breezily. "There are medications we can give you to help, but the main thing is getting some prosthetics fitted as soon as possible. And you look to be healing up nicely down there, so I suspect Dr Kalonia will have you fixed up with a pair of new feet by the end of today, if you're feeling up to it."

Hux gives her a vaguely affirmative grunt in response. He's not quite sure how to process her brisk cheerfulness. By all rights it should annoy him, but it doesn't. Perhaps he's just too exhausted.

"Where's the counsellor?" he asks her. "Dasie or whatever."

"You told her to fuck off and die choking on shit, so she's giving you some space." At Hux's stunned look, the nurse adds, "Oh, don't you worry. Lanie's a hard woman to offend; she knows you weren't in your right mind. She'll be back."

"Right," Hux responds weakly.

"Right indeed," she echoes brightly. "I just need to wash my hands and then I'll comm Kalonia to come and fit you with some dancing shoes. Unless you need a bit more time?"

Hux shrugs and gives her a 'go ahead' gesture, and she smiles brightly at him, as if he's just a regular patient rather than a mass-murdering war criminal.

"I'll be keeping an eye on you, so don't try any funny business," she says, with a wink. Only after she's moved to the sink in the corner of the room does 2281 open his mouth to speak. Hux had almost forgotten he was there.

"People died to save you," he says. His voice is as soft as Hux remembers, even with his tone of accusation. "Don't you dare throw that away, General."

"I never asked to be saved," he spits quietly. The nurse looks over at him, and frowns.

The stormtrooper's look darkens. "Would you rather we'd left you there in that hangar?"

"I'd rather it never fucking happened at all," Hux snaps.

The nurse dries off her hands. There's a crease forming between her eyebrows. She hasn't taken her eyes off him.

"Hux, sweetheart," she begins, with an unconvincing attempt to sound casual, "Who are you talking to?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is discussion of suicidal ideation and execution throughout this chapter,
> 
> The chapter begins with a flashback to the scene between Hux and Kylo in the throne room, just after Supreme Leader Snoke's death. The dialogue has not been changed from that of the original scene, and Kylo still proceeds to choke Hux and bring him to his knees. Through Hux's POV it is made clear that he now considers their relationship to be over.
> 
> Hux then wakes up in a private cabin on Ajan Kloss, with a cannula in the back of his hand that he is tempted to pull out. He wonders silently whether his ordeal is now common knowledge.
> 
> Commander D'Acy and a counsellor named Lanie Dalis are by his bedside. D'Acy tells Hux that he's been granted temporary asylum with the Resistance until he's deemed mentally capable of making his own decisions and that New Republic law prohibits her from using intelligence gathered from people under the influence of mind-altering drugs. Hux interrupts to inform her that the New Republic doesn't exist any more because he "blew it up". D'Acy continues, telling him that she can't legally discuss _anything_ pertaining to the war until he's been cleared by a physician.
> 
> Hux's current situation as a prisoner is discussed. She tells him he'll be provided with medical care and prosthetics. Hux asks if they can just skip straight to execution (D'Acy clarifies that execution isn't guaranteed) and expresses, in some detail, that he'd rather not be alive.
> 
> Lanie, the counsellor, tells Hux that it's normal to feel suicidal, but Hux objects to the idea of talking about his feelings and becomes distressed before losing awareness of his surroundings completely.
> 
> When Hux comes to, he feels like he's been sedated, and Lanie and D'Acy are gone. Instead, he's been joined by a nurse, who treats him with professional kindness, and 2281. It is noted that 2281's hair is wet.
> 
> It is established that Hux had a flashback and has now been given Lorazepam. He has some phantom limb pain, which he discusses with the nurse. Hux then learns that he graphically insulted the counsellor during his flashback, but that the counsellor probably hasn't taken offense.
> 
> When the nurse moves off to wash her hands, 2281 and Hux argue, with 2281 telling Hux that people died to save his life.
> 
> At the end of the chapter, it's revealed that the nurse cannot perceive 2281. She asks Hux who he's talking to.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Hux. Hux lies to doctors about his mental health symptoms. Hux is setting a _terrible_ example to readers. Don't be like Hux.
> 
> Content notes at the end coming soon.
> 
> I'm so very sorry this took so long; lockdown's been a trip. But I'm back now, and hopefully I'll be able to start updating more frequently!

Dr Harter Kalonia is a human woman with a kind, aged face. Like the nurse, she treats Hux as a patient rather than a prisoner, and, after a brief examination and some questions clearly intended to gauge his mental state, she takes a seat beside him and places a black case in her lap.

"I don't think the hallucinations are anything to worry about from a neurological perspective," she tells him. "Your brain scans from the _Sati_ don't indicate any lasting physical damage up there." There's a slight emphasis on 'physical' that makes Hux's hackles rise. "It could be a side-effect of the sedatives, in which case that's easily fixed, or it could be a result of psychological trauma, in which case it's... not so easy, I'm afraid."

"I'm not talking to a kriffing counsellor," Hux murmurs.

"I figured." Kalonia doesn't seem particularly put out by this. "So for now, once the lorazepam's out of your system, I'm going to put you on some medication that might help your mood and then we'll monitor-"

"Do I get a say in whether or not you continue to drug me?" Armitage is still too tired and too hazy to be properly angry, but he's trying his best.

"You _do_ , but I'd advise saying yes in this instance." Kalonia sits back in the chair a little. Her words become slow and patient, as if she's placating a child. "If you're gonna keep holding conversations with people who aren't here, sooner or later you're going to say something embarrassing. Or compromising. So it's actually in your best interests to cooperate with me here."

Hux looks around. The guard by the door is shifting from foot to foot while she stares at the ceiling and pretends not to listen. Feeni is just straight-up watching him with a wry look on her face. Something tugs at the cotton wool inside his head, and he frowns.

"Why are my guards always women?" he asks.

"Well, the medical staff aboard the _Sati_ told me you didn't react well to men touching you. In the unlikely event you decide to make a bolt for the door, we don't want to risk re-traumatizing you on top of everything else."

Hux looks pointedly at the end of the bed, where the blanket covers his stumps. Kalonia smiles at him and holds up the box.

"Speaking of running, how would you like to try these babies on for size?"

He feels a little ill when she lifts the blanket, so he averts his gaze. "You've still got an ankle on this side, so it's going to be something of a lopsided recovery," Kalonia tells him as she attaches the prosthetics. "We'll fix you up with a physiotherapist and get some parallel bars installed in here. Okay! It's not a perfect fit, so I'll need to have some adjustments made before we wire you in, but do you want to take a peek?"

Hux braces himself and looks back. What he sees is disconcerting and alien - an outgrowth of wire and metal where there should be flesh. He feels his face crease up, and hurriedly steels his jaw.

"That should be quite adequate," he says, but his tone is still hoarse enough for Kalonia to understand the feelings beneath it.

"We'll replace them with something in synthskin, later on," she reassures him. "But the longer you're in bed, the more your muscles will decondition, and the longer it will take to recover. Best thing you can do right now is get on your feet as soon as possible, even if they aren't the feet you're used to."

"Now that, I can agree with," Hux murmurs.

The installation doesn't take long. They inject him with a local anaesthetic first, and Hux forces himself to watch, hoping that facing the procedure head-on will help him to accept this horrifying reality. Kalonia tests the reflexes with a small handheld device, and then smiles at him as she pulls her gloves off.

"And we're all set," she chirps. "You'll start getting nerve feedback in a few minutes, but it won't be as sensitive as you're used to, so make sure to watch where you're going and try not to step on anyone's toes."

Hux stares at his new feet. It's like seeing a stranger's face in the mirror; like the way his body felt after they raped him. Still feels, actually.

"If you have any more hallucinations, I want you to tell me straight away," Kalonia continues, packing up her equipment. "Feeni will be sticking around to help you, but you can call for me at any time. Anything else you need, before I go?"

"No," Hux lies, but his chest has gone cold and it - it hurts _inside_ , as if even the briefest thought of his experience has the power to send him tumbling back into the memory. If Kalonia senses anything wrong, she allows Hux the dignity of ignoring it.

It isn't until he and the nurse are alone again that Hux starts feeling something. The sensation is not unlike having a dead limb, and there's even a spreading of pins and needles to go with it. He twitches his new toes, winces at their mechanical whirr.

Something nudges into his vision. Hux looks round. Feeni is holding a metal cane out to him, handle-first.

"Right," she says brightly. "Let's give them a spin. Can't lay around in bed forever, can we?"

Hux scowls, and takes it.


End file.
